I think I'll read this one.
We talked about this one this morning
with some of the students.
And it-- the title is Latin.
It comes from the expression Deus ex machina which
means god from the machine.
But in this case, Deus is missing.
It's just ex machina.
Every year is the year the world ends as I understand it.
X is to blame, or aerosol, or the barbarity of X, in which we
all partake as is our way.
We have come too far to turn away
from this kernel that shapes us into other,
then animal, or just animal enough to breed and break.
It is a science.
The study of what it is in this mind and muscle that
makes us sway the weight of us toward
give or take in the bare face of each open mouthed need.
And what is our mistake, this clamor
that trails us, that shakes us to sleep?
What we are capable of.
What great hope.
What will become of me?